


Romance at the Hanami: Saturday Evening, Early

by junko



Series: the distance between us [17]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya braves the crowds at the Cherry Blossom Festival only to be out-foxed by his aunt and her match-making plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Romance at the Hanami: Saturday Evening, Early

**Author's Note:**

> However, I should warn that the majority of this story is devoted to my theories about Renji's part in the Soul Society arc.

Despite how much he clearly hated it, Byakuya apparently felt compelled to be out in public for at least part of the early evening.

The stop back at the guest quarters to ‘freshen up’ took the good part of two hours. Byakuya changed back into his shihakushô and captain’s haori, and then he’d sent the servants into frenzy mode when he called for the preparation of a picnic dinner.

“Are you sure about this, sir?” Renji asked from where he leaned against the wall, his eyes half-closed and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He stifled a yawn and watched the black kimono-wearing staff bustle around like a nest of ants. He’d splashed some water on his face to wipe away the last of the effects of Kyrōaku’s sake and had even had time for micro-nap. “The ladies are sure to find you. I can’t exactly establish a stable perimeter on my own, unless you’re willing to let me unleash Zabimaru.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s against peacetime regulations for you to hold back the horde of my suitors at the edge of whip-sword. I shall have to find a way to endure the attention,” Byakuya said wryly, from where he stood in the center of all the activity.

“Maybe I could keep them at bay if I belched a lot and took my shirt off,” Renji suggested with a dark smile.

“If we intend to keep girls _away_ , Fukataicho, you must stay fully dressed,” a small smile twitched around the edges of Byakuya’s mouth. But, in the presence of the servants, he quickly schooled his expression and turned to stare impassively out at the private courtyard.

Renji laughed quietly to himself. He was beginning to be able to guess the sort of things Byakuya might have said if they hadn’t been in mixed company. It was amazing the captain was willing to tease this much, honestly. Maybe the tea ceremony had relaxed him. Or, perhaps blowing off a bit of steam at his meddling, matchmaking auntie had done it.

“Still,” Byakuya sighed quietly. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”

Renji could almost hear what was left unspoken: _And we can be alone_.

“Me, too, sir,” he agreed, “Me, too.”

 

#

The servants had hardly finished laying out the blanket and baskets before the assault began.

Renji discovered, however, that his presence was a bit of a deterrent. The first lady to attempt an approach seemed a bit uncertain about him, after all. Her bold stride faltered when she noticed that he didn’t take his leave with the other servants. As Renji plopped down cross-legged on the ground, she stalled out completely and seemed utterly confused how to proceed forward.

Byakuya also made it difficult for her to plans to intrude, since, once he sat down as well, it was astoundingly poor manners to stand before him— _above_ him. So she was forced to abort and continue on her way without stopping. She passed them with a nervous little nod and wave, which Byakuya didn’t even bother to acknowledge.

Renji shook his head. “I told you: you hardly need my help to scare them off.”

Byakuya raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised. When I brought Rukia last year, they all seemed to consider her presence an invitation. Apparently, being an elder brother made me more approachable.”

 _If you didn’t know him, it might make sense_ , Renji thought. On first impression, he’d seem like a doting, caring family man, which would make him a good catch. And, Rukia… she’d be all smiles and trying so hard to fit in.

“Hopefully fewer will dare interrupt a captain on business,” Byakuya continued, “Which is why I changed back into uniform. Perhaps if we look as though we’re discussing the division, no one will have the nerve to break in, and we can eat in peace and possibly even enjoy the gardens.”

The evening was lovely. Of course, the servants had chosen a prime spot for cherry blossom viewing. They sat on the edge of a long promenade that led to the Imperial Palace. Its tiered roof was visible in the distance, adding to the fairy tale look. Cherry trees were everywhere, surrounding them in an explosion of fluffy pink and white. Lanterns had been placed along the path and dangled artfully from trees.

It was bound to be spectacular once night began to fall.

“This will only work, however, if you actually speak to me,” Byakuya noted, His eyes were down, but still tracked a procession of women coming their way.

“Oh, sorry,” Renji said, pulling his attention back. Except, he had no idea what to discuss; it wasn’t like there was much exciting going on at the Sixth without them. The Third Seat was probably pissed off to be missing Cherry Blossom Season, but that was about all. Nearly everyone at the Thirteen Court Guard was on holiday, except for the Eleventh, who were probably taking advantage of the quiet to really tear up the place. Renji remembered one Sakura Season when Zaraki had them all attempt to break into the various barracks to see who had left behind the best defenses. Turns out, the Twelfth is the stuff of nightmares even when they’ve got their guard down.

Byakuya sighed, “Very well. I see I must begin. There is, actually, something that has been bothering me since your promotion.”

Renji hadn’t expected the conversation to turn serious. He sat up straighter. “Oh? What’s that?”

“You were the Sixth Seat in the Eleventh. I have never understood how it is that you couldn’t beat that vain little Ayasegawa.”

“Oh,” Renji relaxed with a laugh. “He’s tougher than he looks. But, I never really tried.”

“And why not?” Byakuya seemed offended on Renji’s behalf. “I’m certain you could have taken his seat and earned the Fourth as well.”

Renji chuckled lowly. “There is no Fourth Seat in the Eleventh.”

“No one can keep it? It’s that hotly contested?”

“No, it doesn’t exist.”

Byakuya frowned. “At all?”

“Right,” Renji smiled. He hunted through the baskets until he found what was looking for: a bottle and two bowls. “It’s permanently empty.”

“That’s infuriating. Someone should fill it. You had the skill, surely. Why didn’t you?”

Renji laughed. “Are you kidding me? You want to see Yumichika commit bloody murder, try getting between him and Ikkaku.”

“If he’s so keen to be next to Madarame, why doesn’t Ayasegawa take Fourth?” Byakuya took the bowl Renji offered him, and waited while it was filled.

“Yumichika thinks the number isn’t pretty--something about the lines being inelegant. I don’t really know,” Renji shrugged as he filled his own bowl. “In fact, he hates the number so much that when he leads exercises he won’t even count it. I swear there’s some guys in that Division don’t think four exists, and that you count: one, two, three, five….”

“Dear god.” Byakuya took a sip from his bowl, and then shook his head. “And the captain allows this to continue? Why doesn’t Zaraki just assign Ayasegawa the seat?”

“Because everyone knows the score,” Renji shrugged, as he hunted through the baskets to see what else had been packed for them. There seemed to be a number of _onigiri_ , cooked rice balls shaped into triangles and filled with cod roe. Renji pulled a few out, hoping they weren’t too spicy. “Anyway, Zaraki’s leadership style is very hands-off, very ‘freedom to fail.’ As long as things get done, he doesn’t much care how it happens.”

Byakuya helped himself to one of the _onigri_. “Perhaps the captain doesn’t care, but his soldiers should. Your rank was misrepresented. Ayasegawa’s silliness nearly cost you advancement. Had I not decided to see you for myself, I would never have considered someone so lowly placed to be my lieutenant.”

Renji stopped rummaging to give Byakuya a long, hard look. “So why did you? What prompted you to check me out?”

“Aizen,” Byakuya said simply, taking a bite out of the rice ball.

At the mention of Renji’s former captain’s name, Zabimaru spat out a growl.

Renji, however, tried to contain his reaction to something more civil. “I thought… that is, I wouldn’t have thought Captain Aizen was still following my career so closely.”

“Indeed.” Byakuya seemed to take in Renji’s response carefully. He nodded, as though he approved, somehow. “But, when I was reviewing your application, it was surprisingly difficult to find detractors. Thus, I listened to those who disliked you very carefully. Ichimaru was easy to dismiss. Your problem with your former lieutenant seemed very straight-forward.”

Renji nodded. Not a lot of people got along with Ichimaru and Renji was no exception. Plus, there was that whole physical altercation got him kicked out of the Fifth in the first place.

“Aizen, however, was difficult to pin down,” Byakuya continued. “Despite our extensive conversation, to this day I remain uncertain exactly what his issue is with you.”

Renji nodded. His relationship with his former captain was fraught from the moment they laid eyes on each other. He’d never forget that fateful day in Academy when Aizen and Ichimaru showed up to save their advanced class from a mission gone terribly wrong. He should have been grateful, should have had those same admiring stars in his eyes that his friends Kira and Momo had. They’d wanted to be like them. But what had he said? _‘Captains and assistant captains are beasts._’ What a strange thing to have come out of his mouth. Where the hell had that come even from?

 _Instinct._ Zabimaru whispered.

Yes. But why? What was his instinct reacting to? Why could he never clearly identify his feeling of dread… of angry disrespect? What was it about Aizen and Ichimaru that bothered him so much, so instantly?

Byakuya was watching him over the rim of his sake bowl. “He troubles you, too, doesn’t he, Renji? Aizen.”

Renji looked away from Byakuya’s penetrating gaze, “What makes you say that?”

“Your hand,” Byakuya said, “It’s on Zabimaru.”

He hadn’t even noticed putting it there. Pulling his left hand from the sheath with effort, Renji clutched the fabric of his hakama instead. “I… shouldn’t. I have no good reason,” he admitted, letting his eyes slowly return to Byakuya. “I can’t explain it.”

Byakuya nodded. “Nor I, but interactions with him… unnerve me.”

“You?” Renji couldn’t imagine Byakuya unsettled by anything, much less someone as mild-mannered seeming as Aizen.

“Indeed,” Byakuya agreed. “Yet we owe him a gratitude.”

“What? Why?”

“Without him, I would have completely dismissed you,” Byakuya admitted. “Frankly, on paper, you’re unimpressive. Your military record tells a tragic tale: a promising Academy graduate who lost his way. Your entrance exams put you into an elite class, you graduated with top marks, and then….” Byakuya sighed, “Then it appears as though this extraordinary student becomes an unruly soldier and spends the rest of his career getting his head kicked in at the Eleventh.”

Renji scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound good when you put like that.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Byakuya agreed coolly. “It also makes no sense. The turn is too sharp. There’s no hint of any rebelliousness at Academy. No reprimands, nothing officially marking you as that sort.”

As a cadet from Inuzuri, Renji had worked especially hard to stay out of trouble in school. There was an entire contingent of people who would have loved to see him expelled for rowdiness. It would have proved their opinion of people from his district.

Byakuya thoughtfully munched on the rice ball, and continued, “Besides, if you were truly that troublesome in Aizen’s Division, you should have stood court martial.”

“I almost did,” Renji admitted quietly, around a sip of sake.

“Aizen told me he saved you,” Byakuya said, his eyes narrowing slightly at the memory, “Out of _pity_.”

Zabimaru snarled again.

“But his words don’t match his actions,” Byakuya continued. “Renji, why did Aizen transfer you to the Eleventh?”

“Huh? Why not? It’s a good fit; I’m a good fighter.”

“Yes, one of the best,” Byakuya nodded quickly. “But you could fight anywhere. Not one of those thugs at the Eleventh uses a shred of kidō. It’s somehow dishonorable to them, isn’t it?” Byakuya didn’t wait for Renji’s nod before going on. “They’ll hardly use shunpo, except that it makes a good dodge, and Zaraki’s resistance to kendo is legendary. You were _Academy trained_ , Renji. You could have gone to any division.”

“Except for the whole insubordination issue,” Renji pointed out, “And I kind of suck at kidō.”

“Perhaps,” Byakuya said, ducking his head slightly as a group of women passed. “But you certainly weren’t going to cultivate the necessary skills to advance in kidō in a company so single-mindedly devoted to one thing only.”

Renji waved overly-invitingly as the girls slowed down, causing them to squeal and hurry along.

Once the ladies were out of earshot, Renji returned to their conversation with a little self-deprecating laugh, “So what are you saying? Aizen should have sent me to the Kidō Squad?”

“No, of course not,” Byakuya sipped his sake. “They would not have taken you. But, why not a transfer to Thirteen or Nine or really anywhere else that practices all techniques in a fight?”

Renji noticed Byakuya hadn’t added Six. Yet Byakuya’s ability to fight full-on and while maintaining the level of concentration needed to cast advanced spells was well-known, and something Renji desperately envied.

Renji returned to his search through the picnic baskets with another little shrug. There had to be something to eat that wasn’t spicy, “Come on, Taicho. You know why. It was a personality thing.”

“Yes, very clever of Aizen to use your background against you like that,” Byakuya murmured. “Very clever, indeed.”

Renji sat back, abandoning the baskets again. “Aren’t you being a little over-dramatic with the conspiracy theories, sir? You seriously think Aizen had some kind of plan up his sleeve? For _me_?” Renji pointed at his nose for emphasis. “Why would Aizen purposely sabotage my career, of all people? I’m no one special. Hell, I wasn’t even seated when I left him.”

“Exactly,” Byakuya said.

Renji shook his head. “I’m not getting this.”

“No, as I’ve been saying, it makes no sense.” Byakuya took another sip of sake. “If Aizen dismissed your court marital out of fondness for you or a sense that your skills were valuable, he should have truly saved you – not sent you to the one place where neither your attitude nor your skills would improve.”

“Oi, I worked my ass off at the Eleventh,” Renji snapped.

“Calm yourself,” Byakuya said. “I mean no insult. Your ambition is both obvious and laudable. You have become the best man the Eleventh could make you.”

Because it was hanging there, Renji asked, “But…?”

“But Aizen didn’t send you to the Eleventh out of kindness. He sent you there to waste the talents of a brilliant Academy student, one who could have easily surpassed all expectations. What is impressive is that you flourished despite his plans.” Byakuya shook his head, and raised his hand to stop Renji’s protests. “It seemed obvious to me Aizen is afraid of you for some reason. I decided that made you much more interesting than your career arc would suggest.”

Renji wasn’t sure if he’d just been complimented, insulted, or both. “Scared of me, huh?”

“Yes,” Byakuya said reaching for a second rice ball. “It’s the only answer that makes any sense to me.”

“Because I could have been so awesome if I’d only just applied myself?” Renji asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That’s your theory?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Huh-huh. That’s great,” Renji said. It was more painful than Renji wanted to admit to hear Byakuya so casually dismiss all the time he’d put in training with Ikkaku as a ‘waste’ of his talents. At least the captain admitted that he was one of the better fighters. But all this talk of his failed potential made that brief compliment seem like cold comfort.

The sun began to set and a small contingent of servants had been deployed to light the lanterns.

Renji glared at Byakuya, who seemed to have turned his attention to watching the procession of lantern-lighters. Renji clenched his teeth to keep from saying: _So the fucking, that’s your way of bringing out my potential, right?_

Byakuya’s eyes flicked in his direction briefly, before returning to the spectacle. Once again, Renji could hear what was unspoken: _this was not the place for a fight._ So, with a deep breath, Renji consciously unwound himself. To distract himself, he went back to hunting through the baskets. Finally, near the bottom, he found something that didn’t smell too spicy. Cold karaage, deep-fried chicken marinated in garlic and soy sauce.

Unfortunately, while he was looking away, a woman approached. With no apparent sense of her rudeness, she stood in front of Byakuya and boldly asked, “Mind if I join you?”

She was breathtakingly beautiful. In a bright yellow kimono, decorated with blue lotus flowers, her hair was deep auburn. Like all the women at festival, her hair had been carefully braided and decorated with jewels and flowers. She smiled down at them boldly, and then settled onto her knees as though Byakuya had already agreed. She took the chicken from Renji’s hands as though he’d intended to offer it to her all long. “My favorite!” she cooed.

“Do I know you, my lady?” Byakuya asked sternly.

She feigned shock. “Oh, how terribly forgetful you are, Captain Kuchiki. I spent nearly three hours with you at tea today. Perhaps your auntie is right; you _do_ need a woman to manage your affairs.”

“Hey,” a woman settled down next to Renji so close that she forced him to shift to the side. She was the bodyguard who’d nodded at him earlier outside of the tea hut. Her uniform and marked her as Zero Division, Royal Special Task Force.

This brash woman who’d joined them… a member of the Imperial family? Byakuya seemed to twig to the fact at the same time. He bowed deeply, so Renji followed suit.

She laughed them off. “Please, please, gentlemen,” she said sweetly. “Get up.”


End file.
